


Tilting at windmills

by aliciawillromance



Category: Good Wife (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 14:44:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliciawillromance/pseuds/aliciawillromance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alicia. Will. An open-hearted conversation about the importance of happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tilting at windmills

"Ask Kalinda to check his priors, maybe we'll have some luck," Will proposes to Alicia, handing her a folder. Sitting at his desk, he's briefing her on a new case.

She takes the document from his hand and hints a smile. "I will." But her mind is somewhere else. If it wasn't for the tag on the file, she wouldn't even remember the name of the client.

Her mother's speech about happiness goes on in her mind on repeat like a broken record.  _Happiness. It's all about happiness. Nothing else matters_. With that woman, it always ends like this. She disappeared for two years - when she needed her most - and when she's back all she can do is to undermine her newly found stability and serenity. Whenever she thinks she's fine, her mother shows up to remind her that she's not.

Stability. Serenity. She doesn't need anything else. She has all she needs. She's fine with the life she lives. She's living the life that she wants. Isn't she? Who does that woman think she is to come and tell her that she's not? _Her mother_.

She had a hard time fighting back tears in front of her. She didn't want her to know that those words hurt. She doesn't want to give her the satisfaction of being right. For a moment, she lets anger prevail over sadness. They couldn't be any more different. Owen is right in that. She probably spent most of her life fighting her mother. But she can't be blamed. Her mother should, instead. They all paid for her inability to stay in a relationship for more than… what? A few years? She doesn't know the meaning of the word commitment, and even less of the word altruism. Everything she did in her life, she always did it for herself, regardless of her own kids. She has suffered. Owen has suffered even more, he was so little. If there's something Alicia is sure of, it's that she won't repeat her mother's mistakes. She will never let go of what she has. She will never let go of what has been her family for the last twenty years.

"Are you okay?" Will asks.

Alicia looks up from the folder and catches his concerned look. She just smiles. "Yes."

"So," Will starts, as he signs a document, then carefully clicks the pen closed and places it back on the desk. "That was your mother…"

Alicia can't understand his amused look. What's so amusing about her mother? She's the most irritating, conceited, self-centered person she has ever met in her life. Together with David Lee, maybe, which says a lot as to why they seemed to get on so well together. "Yep, she was…" She tries to hide the annoyance at the mere mention but is pretty sure from Will's look that she's failing miserably.

Will nods. For a moment he seems uncertain of what to say.

 _Amen_. Maybe she doesn't have to talk about her.

"Now I know from whom Owen took after," Will acknowledges with a light laugh.

Alicia stares at him for a moment, a bit in disbelief – she hoped she had skipped the mother talk -, a bit amused. Damn if he isn't right. She laughs mildly. "And now you know why I've always been daddy's girl," she confirms with a knowing smile.

Owen couldn't be any more similar to their mother. In everything. Bigmouth included. Alicia still can't believe that he told her about Will. In that moment, she was very thankful for the lack of knives at hand. Or scissors. Or any other blunt object, except for a tempting china vase that Jackie had given her. How had it even crossed his mind? Such information in her mother's hands was a dangerous weapon. So dangerous that it took her no time to point it out.  _You want him_. How could that woman believe that she could show up after two years without a word between them and pretend to know everything?

But sometimes, she should just stop. What if her mother's right and she's wrong instead? Who can say for sure what is really important in life? She meets Will's eyes and there is a shadow of thoughtfulness that covers his face. She doesn't realize at first, but then remembers that he had – and maybe still has, they haven't been talking in a while – his own issues as well. She hesitates, unsure of what she wants to know in the first place. "Did you ever… do you ever feel like you're just… fighting to be someone… to be different from someone…" Words don't really come out as expected, she's not even sure if what she has just said makes sense at all.

"Every day." Will's answer is short, straight, simple and very explicit. He sits back, rocks a bit on his chair, then looks away for a moment. "I spent most of my life trying to not be  _him_ … trying to succeed where he failed…"

When he turns to face her again, she is sure that he's holding back something. Will doesn't like to show his weak side. And talking about his father certainly touches some inner and painful cord.

"And look at this," he says, as his hand makes a sweeping motion through the air. "My firm is on the brink of bankruptcy."

Alicia knows that he's blameless. And so is Diane. Firms go bankrupt every day, and not always those who run them are responsible for their failures. But she gets why he's carrying the guilt for it.

"It's like tilting at windmills…" Will says with a resigned smile.

 _Tilting at windmills_ …. Never a metaphor has been more fitting. Is that what she's doing, too?

"My mother thinks that all that matters in life is happiness," she says, seriously, her gaze fixed on him. She's not sure what she's expecting him to answer, though. What would make her feel better? Knowing that happiness is something irrelevant or that is rather something that needs to be pursued at all costs?

"She's right," Will shrugs, very quietly, almost indifferently.

Alicia stiffens, a bit uncomfortable, but tries to conceal her astonishment clutching the folder to her chest. "She's not…"

Will's look is confused. "Then what matters instead? Career? A nice apartment?"

What matters instead? She remembers having the same conversation with her mother. And she remembers not coming up with a real answer.  _Many other things_. What were all those  _many other things_  exactly? She looks away for a moment, reflectively, then looks back at Will.

"Do you think that what I have is enough for me to be happy?" Will asks, seriously, as he leans closer. His expression makes more than clear that he's not expecting a real answer. "I have learned that happiness certainly doesn't spring from fighting against happiness."

It takes her a moment to understand what he really means with those few intricate but only apparently cryptic words… Fight against happiness.

"I'm not fighting against happiness…" She says, as she realizes that he's not referring to himself.

"I never said that… You are fighting against your mother," he says, as he stands up.

Alicia watches as he takes his baseball, walks to the window, then starts tossing it up with one hand and catching it with the other, creating a slow rhythmic pattern going back and forth.

"Who, by the way," he adds as he looks back at her with an amused smile, "has  _interesting_  literary tastes."

Holy Jesus. That book. She had completely forgotten about it. She looks down ashamed and shakes her head with an embarrassed smile.  _Vagina_. "I didn't…" She feels blushing and tries to regain control of her nerves.

Will throws a knowing gaze her way and smiles. "You didn't…" He nods and tosses his ball high, almost touching the ceiling, then snatches it back with a confident and firm catch.

Great. Now he thinks she did. She stands up and starts to leave, the folder still held tight. But when she reaches the door, she suddenly stops. The windmills metaphor still echoes in her mind. "Will?" She calls his name, a bit unsure.

"Yes?" As he sits back at his desk, he looks up at her with a questioning look.

"I… I was thinking that…" Words fail for a moment. What is she doing? "It's a bad day to tilt at windmills… too windy," she justifies.

Will smiles. He seems confused, but smiles. But then, he always does that with her. "Yes… definitely too windy… so… what's the day good for instead?" He asks with a teasing voice.

Alicia shrugs, faking a temporary lack of ideas. "I don't know… A drink maybe?"

Will gives her a tentative, doubtful look. "A drink?" He shrugs. "Sounds like an interesting idea."

She's offering drinks and he plays uninterested? What the hell... "More or less interesting than my mother's literary tastes?" She asks amused.

Will fails to suffocate a laugh. "It depends on the outcome…" He offers.

Alicia rolls her eyes and smiles. Well… she handed it to him on a plate, didn't she?


End file.
